


Nightmare

by SamanthaAuburn



Category: Good Game (TV 2017)
Genre: Falling In Love, M/M, Needing a person, Nightmares, Switched AU, Tumblr Prompt, alcohol mention, dream death, rylex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-18 11:30:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15484794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SamanthaAuburn/pseuds/SamanthaAuburn
Summary: Ryland doesn't need Alex. He doesn't need anyone.Until the nightmares start.





	Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt in the Switched AU! Before the main novel. Technically a sequel to Kissed You Right Now. Enjoy!

The nightmares started three months after Alex had moved in.

At first they were just vague feelings of dread. The accompanying images disappeared the moment Ryland woke up, and he could usually fall back asleep pretty quickly. Especially if he could hear Alex snoring in the other room.

Then they grew more vivid. Just images at first. 

Alex declaring he found a new job and he was leaving.

Alex coming home so drunk he bordered on alcohol poisoning.

Alex unbelievably high for days at a time.

Then his brain accessed the other senses.

The stench of weed. The sound of clinking bottles. The taste of alcohol.

The slime of Alex’s vomit on his hands.

They grew stronger, staying with him after every violent awakening, racing his heart and taking his breath away from him. 

Only Alex’s snoring calmed him. 

Ryland didn’t understand. Why the hell did he care what happened to Alex? He was his roommate now. . . they had just added him to the lease last week. . . but he still had no job. He wasn’t really contributing anything to their little household. Hell, he was draining. Borrowing money from Ryland to go out to bars. Coming home late at night without telling Ryland where he was. Eating up all their snacks when his weed gave him the munchies. 

But he also. . . meant something. He added something important to Ryland’s life.

Those genuine, happy smiles when Ryland came home from work. Their stupid sessions playing dumb games and commenting on them. The movie nights Alex insisted on.

The walks through the park when Ryland was in his deepest depressions.

Somehow Alex knew. He just knew when Ryland needed him, and he refused to leave him alone. It wasn’t like Ryland hadn’t dropped hints. He couldn’t bring himself to outright kick Alex out, hence the lease addition, but he wasn’t exactly welcoming either.

And yet, Alex stayed. Unlike everyone else in Ryland’s life when he started pushing them away. 

Alex stayed.

But he wasn’t that important, was he? Ryland didn’t need him. Not really.

Right? 

He wasn’t important.

Until suddenly he was.

The worst nightmare hit just three weeks after they started. Everything was blindingly white. Ryland could hardly see a foot in front of him. The smell of alcohol and weed was overpowering, but he couldn’t figure out where it came from.

Then a thump echoed through his head. The sound of retching. Gagging. Silence.

Ryland turned.

Alex laid on the ground, a dark shape in a world of white, unmoving, his back to Ryland, covered in his own vomit.

Ryland ran for him, calling his name, begging him to hang on, but he could never get close. Alex was always too far.

He could see the man struggle, convulsing on the floor, gasping for air, trying to get words out. He turned, just enough for Ryland to see panic in his gaze. 

Then he stopped. The final look of pure terror on his face. The life gone from his eyes. 

His breath gone.

And Ryland couldn’t get to him.

“Alex, no! No, no, no, _NO!”_

And he couldn’t get to him.

He couldn’t. He couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t save him. He lost the only person who ever stuck with him. Who ever cared about him.

Who ever loved him.

Then his brain couldn’t take it anymore and it jolted him awake. His body shook, his heart raced. . . and tears streamed down his face. The dark of his room trapped him in the nightmare world for several seconds after, forcing an image of Alex’s dead body to stick with him in his lucid state.

He ran his hand down his face quickly, desperately trying to erase the evidence. The image.

The fear.

He focused on Alex’s snoring.

Only. . . he didn’t hear it.

Ryland sat up in bed and strained his hearing for Alex’s snores. Nothing. Not even breathing. 

But there was a dark, deep smell of alcohol. 

Lightning shot up his spine and he threw himself out of bed and into the living room. “Alex?!” 

Alex was kneeling in front of the couch with a rag and a bottle of carpet cleaner, a half empty beer bottle on the table behind him. He looked up at Ryland, frowning. “Sorry, Ry, I dropped my beer. I’m trying to clean it up. Did I wake you?” 

Ryland couldn’t breathe for several seconds from relief. He took a step toward Alex. . . then stopped. 

He couldn’t go running to Alex like a child. It was just a nightmare. Alex was fine. Ryland didn’t need him that much.

He didn’t. 

He _didn’t._

Alex frowned. “Ry? You okay?” 

“I. . . had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” Ryland said nonchalantly, waving a hand. “I didn’t hear you snoring is all. But you’re fine. I’m gonna go back to bed.” He turned back to his room.

“Ryland.” 

Ryland turned. Alex was standing now, his frown deepening. Ryland tried to keep his expression neutral. “What?” 

Alex chewed his bottom lip. “You’re crying.” 

Shit. He noticed. “Naw, just sweating a little. You know the AC can’t touch this place when it’s this hot.” 

Alex took several steps forward. “Ry. . .” 

“I’m fine,” Ryland said, stepping backwards. “I’m okay.” 

Alex stopped, his face a mask of worry. But he didn’t push it further. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.” 

“Sure,” Ryland said. 

“Don’t suffer alone.”

Ryland froze in place. Suffer. Such. . . a strong word.

But he wasn’t suffering. He had stopped cutting. Stopped feeling sorry for himself all the time. Stopped hating himself. 

Most of the time.

But. . . why? What changed? His diet? His lifestyle? 

Alex? 

Was that why he wanted Alex in his life? So he wouldn’t be alone anymore? So he wouldn’t be suffering?

“Ry--”

 _No._  
“I’m fine,” Ryland said, holding his hands up. “I’m good. I’m not suffering.” He forced a smile. The last thing he wanted to do was unbox all these new thoughts. Not now. Not in front of Alex. “It was just a nightmare.” 

Alex pressed his lips together. “If you’re sure.” 

“I am,” Ryland said. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight.” He turned and entered his room before Alex could say anything more.

He lay in bed, tucking the covers around him, though he knew he wouldn’t sleep again that night.

He didn’t need Alex. He didn’t need anyone. 

He wasn’t suffering.

He was just fine.


End file.
